Calendar Vamp

 

 

 

Xander woke from a half doze at the banging of the front door and Spike's unmistakable stomp in the entryway. "Hey, where've you been?"

"Newsagent," Spike said, crossing the room in two strides, invading the chair, Xander's lap, and Xander's mouth in that order. His tongue still tasted of smoke and crisp fall air, cold enough to wig Xander out if he hadn't been so distracted by the things it was doing to him.

"Wow." Xander said, blinking slowly when his mouth was free for speech again. "That must have been some news article."

"Oh, didn't go for the paper, pet. We've got the paper."

"Then allow me to say: huh? And o-kay?"

For an answer, Spike reached into his duster pocket and dropped a disposable camera into Xander's lap.

"What's this for?"

"You. Specifically, you taking pictures of me."

"You don't strike me as the photo Christmas cards kind of guy."

"'M not." Spike unfolded the newspaper and held it two inches from Xander's nose.

"Fifteen percent off, Veteran's Day Sale?" Xander read.

"No, you git. The article."

"Rotary Club Bares All For Charity?" Xander mumbled to himself silently as he read. "Er. Ugh. There're that many people out there who want to buy a calendar of naked middle aged men?"

"Typical." Spike tossed the paper over his shoulder and braced his hands to either side of Xander's head. "You missed the most important part of the article."

"And what was the most important part of the article, Spike?"

"The most important part, Harris, was the bloody bottom line."

"Bottom line: old guys strip for cash."

"But did you see how
much cash? Pet, follow me on this. If people are willing to shell out two hundred and fifty thousand dollars all told for old blokes, what do you think I'm thinking?"

Spike watched the wheels turn in Xander's head before his eyes lowered to the camera, then back up to Spike's face, adding two and two and coming up with 38. "Okay, first: no. Second: what's it going to take to distract you? Third: you're doing this just to get me to distract you from having nude pictures taken of yourself and selling them to a calendar company for a cut of the proceeds, aren't you?"

Spike curled his tongue behind his teeth, hiding a grin. "Pet, you wound me."

"By calling you evil, I wound you?"

"Well, souled now."

"Nuh uh, buddy! You can't have it both ways."

Spike pouted, reaching down for the camera, then slipped his hand to the side, palming Xander's cock and balls instead. "But I like it both ways."

"And somehow, I don't think we're talking about photographs anymore," Xander huffed, resisting the urge to spread his legs for Spike and let him-

Wait, Xander was resisting this
why?

"That's better," Spike said, slipping his hand into the widened space, knocking the camera off to the side and starting a slow rock and rub. "Might be talking about photographs," he said, leaning in to Xander's ear, dotting kisses up along the rim.

Xander shuddered, parting his lips and tasting the last of the cigarettes and night air taste Spike left there. "Gonna just have to keep you keeping me too busy to want me to take nudie pictures of- uh huh. Okay, that's really ni- nice! Keep doing that. And I had a point a minute ago."

Spike chuckled into Xander's throat, resuming the methodic nibbling up and down the thrum of Xander's pulse. "Feels to me like you've got quite a nice point." He emphasized his words with a squeeze of Xander's cloth-covered erection.

"You, Mister, get zero points for origina- aahh. Originality."

"How 'bout for sheer talent?"

"Big points," Xander said breathlessly. "Lots of points. More points if you put some of those special vamp powers to work to get me out of my pants before I hurt myself."

Spike closed blunt teeth over Xander's pulse and shook his head, worrying the flesh with a low growl that broke off into a smug chuckle when Xander's cock leapt against his palm, the fabric becoming damp already with pre-come. "Could do that."

He let Xander whine desperately, laving the vibrations in Xander's throat with his tongue, dipping into the hollow of his clavicle, circling round and round to the rough rhythm of Xander's breathing, fingers making quick work of his belt and zipper. Then, Spike let go, rising onto his knees and taking Xander by the shoulder. "Up now, pet. Want these off." He gave Xander's pants a tug, free hand drifting down to unbutton Xander's shirt one button at a time. When Xander struggled up off the seat, Spike gave his pants and boxers a quick yank down to his knees, then settled back, shrugging out of his duster and letting it pool on the floor. "Kick 'em the rest of the way off."

Xander struggled to do so, sliding his hands around Spike and up under his tee-shirt, short nails scratching down his spine to a low moan. "What-what about you?" His fingers caught in Spike's hem, tugging at it, and let go with a hiss when Spike slid forward, grinding his denim-covered erection against Xander's bare flesh.

"What about me?" Spike asked, dipping in to rub against Xander's bared chest, feeling his tee-shirt catch on sweat-dampening flesh, growling low in his throat at the warmth seeping in. Impatiently, he shoved Xander's shirt off his shoulders, wrenching it off his arms and flinging it into a corner and ducking down to fasten his lips hungrily over a nipple, rolling the bud with his tongue, biting, muttering. "Want this pierced. Want metal to play with. Be so bloody sexy with a bit of steel. Y'like that, pet?"

Xander clutched at Spike, an arm around his waist, an arm around his shoulders, lifting his hips needily to bring Spike's hands back where he wanted them most, and let out a rattling groan as Spike's hands returned to his aching cock, stripping him hard and fast, teeth locking down on his throat as Xander felt the ripple and shudder of Spike's demon emerging. Throwing back his head and closing his eyes, Xander gave himself up to the suckle and pull of Spike's lips, teeth, tongue, and coming to the first hot spurts of blood bursting into Spike's mouth and sinking bonelessly back into the chair with a moan.

Xander twitched, catching Spike's hand still working too-sensitive, softening flesh, and linked warm damp fingers with cool wet fingers, his other hand coming up to comb through Spike's hair, cradle the back of his skull as he sipped, long, slow pulls that sent tingles like little orgasms through Xander's sated limbs until Spike eased off, shivering back into human guise and lapping gently at the wounds. "Mmm. Hm. Gonna give me a cookie after taking all my tasty blood, Mr. Vampire?"

"Got better than cookies for you, pet." Spike captured Xander's lips, and this time, tasted of copper and salt and something that reminded Xander of the smell of peat, and how strange was it that he was beginning to recognize nuances in his own blood?

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Spike shifted, grimacing at the wetness inside his jeans, but put it out of his mind, drifting his hands up and down Xander's warm skin. "Got chocolate while I was out too. The good sort."

"I will never go back to American chocolate again," Xander vowed, a grin beginning to bloom.

"There's a good lad." Spike slowed his hands, tilted his head, and raised his eyebrows at Xander. "What's so funny, pet?"

"You."

"I give you orgasms, and that's
funny?"

"No! No. The orgasm was not the funny part. Definitely not a word I'd use to describe the orgasm, funny."

"What's funny then?"

"How easy it is to distract you from having me take nude pictures of you." Xander smiled, pulling Spike closer and relaxing back into the chair, letting Spike shuffle around until they could curl against each other.

"Who said I was distracted?"

"You're sitting on the disposable camera."

"Oh. Yeah." Spike stretched, slinging his legs over the side of the chair, and leaned back, reaching into his duster pocket, dropping a little black remote into Xander's hand. "Who said I was gonna use that little piece of shite?" Xander felt his blood run cold, and followed the line of Spike's sight to the cheerily blinking red light of their video camera, perched on top of the television set. "And who said I wanted nude pictures of me?"

"Spike-"

"Shh, luv. Private viewing only that one. Promise."

"But what was all that about two hundred and fifty thousand for naked middle aged men?"

"Got me thinking 'bout the value of flesh, pet. And that tape? Worth more than two hundred and fifty thousand to me, it is."

 

 

 

 

Next

Previous

Newspaper!Verse Index

Notes

 

Fiction

Site Updates

Live Journal

Icons

Links

Feedback